And then something moved outside the locked door. And I understood what it meant to be left.
The howling begins to fade. Distance widening. The pack moving on. The silence that follows is heavier than the noise.
Hawk sets the gun on the table within reach but no longer aimed at anything.
He crosses to the small kitchen area.
“You drink tea?” he asks.
I blink. “Yes.”
He fills a kettle from a bottled jug. The mundane sound of water feels surreal after the wilderness chorus.
“You always this prepared?” I ask, my voice steadier now.
“I plan for variables.”
“And I’m a variable.”
“Yes.”
There is no offense in his answer. The kettle whistles softly. He pours hot water over a tea bag from a labeled emergency tin, then opens a small metal flask from the cabinet.
He hesitates half a second. Then adds a measured pour. He hands me the mug.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Something that helps.”
The scent of brandy rises with the steam. I watch the tea steep and feel helpless to say much more. But there’s a part of me that wonders if the coyotes are an omen — a warning for me. And now, for Hawk as well.
I wrap my hands around the ceramic mug. It’s almost too warm — and that’s exactly what I need.
“You don’t trust me,” I say.
“No.”
Hawk is very direct.
“Yet you’re helping me sleep.”
“You’re my responsibility.”
Not kindness. Not even attraction. Just his responsibility. The distinction matters.
I sip the tea. The heat spreads slowly through my chest, loosening something tight and stubborn.
“You don’t know what you’re protecting,” I murmur.
“I will.”
The confidence in that statement is infuriating … and oddly reassuring.
Our eyes meet and I wonder if this brave man knows what forces may come down on us. Perhaps, I should give him a warning. But not now. I’ll think on that first.
I simply had a memory triggered — a bad one. Because it wasn’t the coyotes in the dark that got to me. It was the ones in broad daylight at a busy intersection in Moscow — smiling and wearing suits.
For now, the pack is gone. I watch as Hawk refreshes the wood in the fireplace. The wind settles. The fire cracks once.
